Fall to Grace
by tromana
Summary: Jane/Lisbon oneshot collection, with each fic inspired by a track from Paloma Faith's album of the same name. New: When You're Gone: Five times Jane thought Lisbon might leave him, and one time she actually did.
1. Picking Up the Pieces

**A/N: **So, last week I bought Paloma Faith's second album, Fall to Grace, and have been kind of addicted to it since. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) I found many of the songs inspiring, especially for Jane/Lisbon, and as a consequence, decided I had to try and write one in for each track.

I'll be dealing with the songs in order, and the fic titles will take on the title of the track in question.

That's it for now.

x tromana

* * *

**Title: **Picking Up the Pieces  
**Author: **tromana  
**Rating: **T  
**Characters: **Jane/Lisbon  
**Summary: **There's days when he just looks at you and you have to wonder what's going on in his mind.  
**Disclaimer: **Not mine  
**Notes: **Written for the Paint It Red Monthly Challenge. Prompt: Three words that can change your life forever. Also for Prompt Table D on Paint It Red. Prompt: 03. Chasing Ghosts.

**Picking Up the Pieces**

You've inherited the husk of a man. Patrick Jane isn't whole and you suspect that he never will be. All you can do is try and help him get by. It's a task you take on willingly; being the fixer is an inherent part of your characteristics. That's something you've had to do since childhood and never really grown out of. Why would you, after all the conditioning you went through as a kid?

Despite telling yourself not to fall for him and that it'd only end in heartache, it still happened. Deep down, you know that it was inevitable, but it doesn't abate the deep seated fears that quell inside. Everything about this situation is wrong. He's not ready and you sure as hell aren't, either. However, the heart is stronger than the mind and you're learning that the hard way.

Just because you're convinced that this is only going to end in pain, it doesn't mean it actually will. You can't see what the future will hold, can you?

But that thought isn't enough to prevent that irritating itch at the back of your mind.

There's days when he just looks at you and you have to wonder what's going on in his mind.

If he's comparing you to his deceased wife.

What similarities you and she share.

If he resents you from being too alike – or too different – from her.

You know so little about Angela Ruskin-Jane that it's hard to tell. In theory, you could press him for information about her, ask what she was like, why he loved her so, what made her tick, but it isn't your place to ask. Not even now, when you've been dancing towards a relationship for years, and have finally given into the need for one another.

Although, you can never be sure if that need is equal, can you? While there's no doubt in your part, as much as you think you know Patrick Jane, you're certain there's more to learn about him. Always two steps behind him, that's the way you see it.

And, yet, it still feels like you're destined just to help patch him back together, no more and no less.

Deep down, you know he's still capable of love, which is why you willing accept the scant breadcrumbs he throws in your direction. They're a promise of things to come, you have to tell yourself. Or at least, that's what you say when the cynical devil on your shoulder claims otherwise.

It never gets any easier, competing with a ghost. There are good days and bad days, and sometimes you cannot be sure if the positives really do outweigh the negatives.

But there has to be a reason he said yes, doesn't there?

He had even been willing to run the risk with Red John breathing down your respective necks. Just as you had been; if you hadn't, then this beautiful mess would never have been on the table.

You wouldn't have been filled with self-doubted and have continual crises of confidence.

However, Red John isn't an issue any more.

You remember the day he died, as clear as day.

How Jane had broken down in racking sobs and you'd held him, unable to offer any other kind of support. This had been a relief reserved especially for him. Even though you've had your own trials and tribulations in the past, and even though you were inexplicably linked to the Red John case, you couldn't understand just what it's like to come home and see that smiley face on the wall.

It's a fear that had been instilled in you until the very moment you received the phone call stating that he'd died. What if Red John had gotten bored of targeting Jane, and decided to play with you instead? After all, there had been occasions when he'd shown a vested interest in you as well.

But that's beside the point now. He's dead and gone.

Even if it had been in one of the least expected ways. You'd always hoped to apprehend him, to put him behind bars and on death row, just as he deserved. And you know that Jane always kept clinging hold of his latent desire of revenge. Whenever he stated he wouldn't object to your arresting him, those seeds of doubt sprouted in your mind. However, neither of you had gotten you way. Instead, Red John had died in a freak accident. The crash of a private airplane had claimed his life and ended his scourge on the state of California.

It's not enough to quell the arguments though. The spats seem to get more heated and more personal each time.

The team always knows when you're fighting; they always did in the past, so why would it be any different now?

Neither of you is above the silent treatment, nor damning the other one to hell. Eventually, shame-faced, one of you (usually you), relents for the comfort of the other's arms. Even with your problems, the seemingly unbalanced relationship, your desperate doubts, you know you work better together.

It's the reason why he's still on your team. And why you'll never kick him out of your home, now that he's (sort of) moved in.

A work related argument so easily turns into a personal one. On this occasion, you're as mad as hell at him for winding up the ADA and getting you both kicked out of court. He cannot see the problem because the case was an open-and-shut one and he doesn't even know why he needed to give evidence this time. Sometimes, you wonder if Jane can go anywhere without causing a scene. Usually, you just claim that it adds color to the day. However, there are occasions when you just wish he would hold his tongue.

Somewhere along the line, he brings up Angela and it shocks you to the core. You don't talk about his family and for good reason. It's the one wound of his you've never been able to heal, even if you have managed to put a band-aid on it and cover it up.

"I'm always going to be second best, aren't I?" you explode, in a fit of rage and immediately regret it.

This specific argument has hit its peak now and you can feel the energy ebbing out of you. This isn't fair, but then again, it was never going to be. You've always known that being with him isn't easy, that you've got to take the rough with the smooth. However, it's times like this which make you wish you could take a step back and walk away.

But you can't, because that's just not you.

"No, you're not," he whispers and takes a step towards you.

His simple statement takes you aback. It's the last thing you expected to ever slip out of his mouth. After all, how could you ever compete with her? Grief means that Jane pictures her with the rose tinted glasses firmly on and you cannot fault him for that. Even so, it doesn't change the fact that you're just here, dealing with what's left with him.

And that still applies even now, after Red John.

He catches hold of your wrist and ordinarily you'd snatch it back in a pique of rage. You know that he's doing this simply to measure your pulse, to read you via something as uncontrollable as your heart rate and you don't like it when he plays his tricks on you. However, you're sick and tired of this and don't want to start off yet another argument.

"You never were," he adds eventually, staring you directly in the eye.

You can't help but wonder if – finally – he actually means it this time.

All you can do is hope that he does.


	2. 30 Minute Love Affair

**A/N: **Thank you to: SharpestSatire, TwilightLover-CarlisleandEsme, lolly2222 and J Judit J for reviewing. Also to those who have favourited/alerted this new collection.

This was written with both the Paint It Red Monthly Challenge and Jello Forever Monthly Challenge in mind. Please do check out both!

x tromana

* * *

**Title: **30 Minute Love Affair  
**Author: **tromana  
**Rating: **T  
**Characters: **Jane/Lisbon  
**Summary: **One night wouldn't hurt them. An AU first meeting.  
**Disclaimer: **Not mine  
**Notes: **Written for the Paint It Red Monthly Challenge. Prompt: Three words that can change your life forever. Also for the Jello Forever monthly challenge. Prompt: New Beginnings

**30 Minute Love Affair**

She watched him carefully from the door frame. He seemed perfectly at ease with himself and his surroundings; laughing and joking with the bartender and fellow patrons. Smiling broadly, he threw back a whiskey on the rocks and swallowed it with ease. This was a Patrick Jane coming down from having given a blinder of a show; he needed to relax and shake off that buzz he'd built up during his performance. Apparently, alcohol and good company seemed to be the way to do it.

Patrick Jane. He was almost notorious, in a way. She knew his name for several reasons. The fact that everyone in attendance at the Red Bulls seemed to know of him was a help. Then, there were the peeling posters that littered the sidewalk for two miles in each direction.

And then, more importantly, there was the simple fact he volunteered his services at the same place she worked. The California bureau of investigation, more commonly referred to as the CBI. Lisbon had never actually worked with him there, but amongst the staff, he was as notorious there as he was here. Everybody knew who he was, from the lowliest of cleaning staff right up to the fat cats in management, thanks to his regular antics. Even she, who had only been hired by Virgil Minelli just two months previously, knew everything about him and what he did.

He was reckless, arrogant, egotistical, a pain in the ass and a quicksilver mind. He might not have closed many cases the _right_way, but if he touched your case, it was pretty much guaranteed to be dealt with within two weeks. It may have appeared that working with Jane was a double-edged sword, but most people considered it to be worth it. He closed cases, that was what they said. That was enough to make up for the chaos he caused.

There was one exception, of course, and that was Red John. She could hardly fault him for that; no man was perfect. And besides, Red John was as slippery as an eel. The case had been open since '97 and already passed through many sets of hands. As far as Lisbon knew, Jane had only spent a few hours on it, so to expect him to have closed it already was expecting nothing short of a miracle.

However, she wasn't actually here to talk to Jane. His presence was mere serendipity, a coincidence. And just as she was toying with the idea of disappearing, slipping out and going to another bar, he motioned for her to come a little bit closer. It was almost as if his ego had been convinced to the opposite. That he thought she had actively searched him out and wanted to spend time with him.

But what the hell would she want to do with him?

Lisbon had seen his act more than often enough. How he read people and picked up on the flaws in their armor, the skeletons in their closets. And she had more than enough skeletons to last a lifetime. She wasn't about to let him drag them out and play with them in public. There had been more than enough of him doing that to other people earlier, in his 'set', if that was what she was meant to label it.

However, through no thought of her own, her feet led her straight to him.

Almost immediately, he motioned towards the bartender who diligently appeared at his side. Jane was the kind of patron that they liked to keep pleased. Then again, he clearly made them a lot of money with his 'psychic readings', so there was due reason for it.

"The same again, and whatever the lady here is having," he stated clearly.

"Who said I want a drink?"

"Why else would you be in a bar?" he asked coyly. "Please, take a seat."

She shook her head and instead, stuck her hands in her pockets. This was ridiculous; she didn't even understand why she was paying so much attention to this man. It would have been so easy for her to turn and walk away. Automatically, she glanced over her shoulder to check that the exit was still clear. As she slowly turned to leave, the drinks appeared and Jane spoke again.

"Don't be shy, Teresa."

"How do you know my name?" she asked, surprised.

"Please. You don't think I pay attention at work?"

"But we don't work together."

"Passing in the corridors is enough, Teresa," he said, repeating her name for effect as he stared her directly in the eye. "Believe me."

"Why should I do that?"

"Why not?" he shot back quickly.

"I should go."

"You should sit down. I did buy you a drink for a reason."

"And what reason would that be?" she queried.

"You'll never know unless you stay."

Dubiously, Lisbon took the seat, but her drink remained untouched. After all, she'd never actually stated what she'd wanted, even though the bartender had taken it upon themselves to serve her one anyway. Jane's smile grew that little bit more broad and it unnerved her. She just didn't understand why he was taking such an interest in her. Then again, she still wasn't sure why she had bothered coming to this specific bar when all the advertisements had confirmed that he would have been there.

Sheer intrigue, she surmised. Just because she had happened to catch him in action on television, it didn't mean she knew what his performance was like in the flesh. Lisbon knew that deep down, she wanted to know just why he managed to lure so many people in. She also wanted to work out whether or not he was actually a psychic and if it were all an act.

Either way, she still wasn't sure.

"Don't you dare try any of your psychic crap on me," she stated warningly.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Jane replied.

"I don't believe you."

"You know, you're quite beautiful when you're angry."

The change of subject surprised her, but Lisbon knew that it shouldn't have. After all, Jane was a master of wordplay and mind games. He probably wanted to take her off guard, simply to see how she reacted. He may not have been trying to hypnotize her (yet), but that didn't mean he didn't have other tricks in his arsenal. Once more, she cursed herself for joining him, and again for staying.

But then again, there was something intriguing about him, if nothing else. That was probably why he had so many women fawning over him. He was charismatic and charming, there was a certain allure. Lisbon didn't want to become a statistic – or worse, a notch on his bedpost – but part of her just couldn't help herself. He had this way of making her feel safe and welcome.

"You're married," she stated flatly.

"To a wife who hates me," he answered with a noncommittal shrug.

"Does that make a difference?"

"Absolutely," he confirmed.

"Doesn't change the fact that you're _married_," she shot back.

"Would taking my wedding ring off make any difference?"

"No."

It wasn't a lie; it wouldn't make her feel any more or less uncomfortable. Lisbon knew he was flirting with her, and that she was responding to it in an unusual fashion, to say the least. She had never liked the concept of being the scarlet woman; there was so much heartache involved for all concerned. Besides, just because Jane had said that his wife hated him, it didn't make it true. Maybe, he simply hoped that she did, simply to ease his conscience when it came to being attracted to other women?

He took a hold of her wrist and unusually, Lisbon didn't pull it back in response. Instead, she allowed him to draw tiny circles across her skin. His soft touch made her feel equally at ease and uncomfortable. There was nothing like the gentle press of fingertips against her skin to shift her mindset. It made her feel the promise of things to come, just as he probably hoped. Jane, after all, knew what he was doing; he was a seasoned pro at this.

And despite the fact she knew it was so wrong, it also felt so right.

"You're not trying to seduce me are you?" she asked, a frown suddenly appearing between her brows.

"Is it working?"

She made an indistinct noise. It was meant to be a no, but of course, her body had very different ideas as to how to respond. Jane simply grinned and carried on with his ministrations.

"I thought as much."

"Are you sure there's room in here for you and your ego?"

"So the cat _hadn't_ got your tongue, then?"

"Are you sure this is the right behavior for such a public place?"

"You're right, of course," he muttered. "We should leave."

"And go where?" she queried.

"I'm staying in a hotel, not far from here," he informed her quickly. "We won't be disturbed there."

"You sure?" she asked doubtfully.

"Of course I'm sure."

They traveled in silence, but Jane constantly kept his hand on at least some part of her body. Her shoulders, her wrist, her elbow. It was almost as if he believed she would slip through his fingers if he didn't keep hold of her. Lisbon's mind ran at ten to the dozen; she didn't need to ask to know that he had been keeping an eye on her at work. The way he had behaved since he had spotted her by the door suggested that he had an air of familiarity with her.

That was what made her stay close beside him. That was what had stopped her from running.

And that was why she was here right now.

When they reached his hotel room, he seemed to take on a completely different, if not expected, role. As his lips touched her own, she responded eagerly, and almost successfully managed to shut down the part of her mind that was yelling out about the wife and child. Her hands slipped up his shirt and she smiled as he groaned indistinctly. He, after all, wasn't the only one who could play games. When he decided to take revenge, nibbling her earlobe and his teeth gently grazing at her bare skin, she sighed in response.

One night wouldn't hurt them. Just because they worked in the same building, it didn't mean that anything would happen again in the future.

Though he promised no interruptions, they hadn't even made it to the bed by the time his cell phone rang it.

He frowned as he dug out the offending object and she couldn't hide the look of disappointment that crossed her features. Carefully, she perched herself on the end of the bed and started to button her shirt up once more. Suddenly, Lisbon felt as though she were naked and had been laid bare. The feelings of guilt had come rushing back and that didn't help either. It was clear that he noticed it too when he pressed his lips against hers one more time; another promise of things to come.

"I'll be back in thirty minutes," he said and all she could do was nod in response. "I promise."

After exactly thirty minutes, he didn't turn up.

And after thirty one minutes, she heard the news: Jane's family had been brutally murdered by Red John.

xxx

They were reunited in time. Both were a little more bruised and battered by the world and both that little more weary. Jane wore a new desire for revenge on his sleeve whereas Lisbon had worked up the ranks within the CBI. There was still that lack of fulfilment in her personal life, however. That was something she had simply cast aside, had filed away in her mind for future reference. If it happened, it happened, as far as she was concerned. Instead, she found a certain amount of peace in one-night stands. They were less complicated and easier for her to deal with.

When she heard that Jane was being rehired by the bureau, she had been first in line to request he worked on her team. Minelli, pleased albeit a little confused, had immediately agreed. If anyone could rein in Patrick Jane, he knew it would be her.

Even so, they spent years dancing around the subject. Neither one of them dared to admit to their shared history and for good reason: Red John was still out there. And if he found out about their past, than that target painted on their backs would have become that little more luminous. His threat was enough to scare both of them away. And besides, Lisbon knew a certain amount of his history. She couldn't guarantee that he even wanted to think about that fateful night of 'almosts'. Just because it had toyed with her mind, it didn't mean the same could have been said about him. He had more important things to worry about.

After Red John had finally been apprehended, they spent hours just sitting in silence, holding one another. This was the closure they had both craved. Lisbon was quietly relieved that Jane had decided to cast aside the need to kill Red John over the deaths of his wife and child. Jane was simply happy to be able to hold her close once more. It made his choice between her and revenge seem worthwhile.

It was Jane who eventually took the first move. He gently pressed his lips against Lisbon's, and those fireworks that had lain latent in the pit of her stomach suddenly erupted. Considering just how long she had been waiting for it, it was a relatively chaste affair, but she wasn't one to complain. It had taken them long enough to put their demons to rest and now, they had the whole future ahead of them.

Softly, Jane pressed his hand against her left cheek and she raised hers to meet his.

"So you remembered?" she whispered, eventually breaking the silence.

"So did you."

"Why didn't you bring it up sooner?"

"Does it matter?"

"No."

Of course it didn't; all that mattered was that they got there in the end.


	3. Black and Blue

**A/N: **It's my birthday, so I'll write if I want to.

Thank you to: SteeleSimz, LAurore, MerriWyllow, lolly2222 and TwilightLover-CarlisleandEsme for reviewing 30 Minute Love Affair.

x tromana

* * *

**Title: **Black and Blue  
**Author: **tromana  
**Rating: **T  
**Characters: **Jane/Angela, Jane/Lisbon  
**Summary: **"Her approval meant everything to him and the look on her face suggested that he had bitterly let her down."  
**Disclaimer: **Not mine  
**Notes: **Written for the Paint It Red July 2012 Monthly Challenge. Prompt: Only fools carry on.

**Black and Blue**

_June 1992_

Patrick Jane sat beside the woman and smiled warmly at him. She returned it, albeit weakly, before dropping her gaze onto her hands which rested on her lap. This was clearly a woman who was hurting, who was scared of the future. The way she uncomfortably twisted the slim gold band around her ring finger she suggested doubts in her marriage. Regular glances at the fairly recent photograph from her wedding day also helped cement that thought.

This was the first time he had done a private reading for somebody, in their own home. It was different; a practical mine field of information. He tempered his expression into one of the utmost concern for his client. Quickly, Jane offered her a cup of tea or a glass of water, but she declined. It was clear that this situation was uncomfortable for her and that she wanted it done as soon as possible.

He felt uncomfortable in the suit; the shiny silver felt ostentatious. However, his father had insisted upon it, said it suited him as a now-adult psychic. Usually, Alex Jane spent all of his (and Jane's) money in gambling, so he knew he had to grudgingly accept the gift. The look on this woman's face suggested that it worked though. She had seemed impressed by his attire when she answered the door, anyway. If he had to keep up appearances to make his money, then Jane knew he would have to endure it. Maybe later, he would be able to appreciate how it finished off his image perfectly.

"This is… it's just so difficult," she sniffed and Jane nodded, understanding.

When he reached out to place a gentle hand on her elbow, she flinched at the touch but eventually relaxed into it. His fingers carefully encircled her wrist as he measured her pulse. Changes in heart rate were always a good measure for just how close to the mark his musings were.

"I understand," he assured her, "and I'll try and make this as painless as possible. You believe your husband is having an affair, yes?"

"Yes, yes. That's why I called you. You _can_ contact living spirits as well as the dead, right? That's what your manager said, isn't it?"

He cut off her garbled speech with a quick and decisive nod. "Yes, it's difficult, but it is possible."

"Oh good, good," she breathed.

"Do you have an item, something small, something that's close to him? Maybe he wears it regularly or…"

His client rushed to her feet, immediately breaking off the connection between them. Jane frowned, but stayed seated as she scurried away into another room. Soon, she returned with a pair of cufflinks. They looked old, but well worn. It wasn't exactly what he had in mind, but he knew they would do the job.

"He inherited these from his father. He always wears them to work, always. Says they bring him good luck."

She hiccupped slightly on her last word, but Jane soothed her with carefully considered phrases. Holding the cufflinks tightly in one hand, he requested that she circled his hands with hers to increase the bond. Knowing that he now had her focus entirely on him, he closed his eyes and started to deepen every breath. Her hands squeezed tighter around his accordingly, almost willing him to hurry up and give him an answer.

Suddenly, Jane snapped his eyes back open.

"Well?"

"Yes, yes your husband has been feeling… guilty."

"Guilty?" she echoed, unsure.

"He knows he hasn't been spending enough time with you, he's been… busy."

"I knew it," she breathed, her anger rising. "I _knew_ it. The bastard, the dirty, lying piece of-"

"Please, Mrs…"

"How many?" she asked and Jane paused, stumped. "No, don't tell me. It's a lot, isn't it?"

He nodded slowly. If that was the conclusion she wanted to make, then he was more than happy enough to go along with it. After all, he really had no idea whether the woman's husband had been a liar or a cheat. All he'd been doing was playing with her instincts.

It was just a few minutes later when she handed him a manila envelope containing a wad of cash for his services. With breathy thanks, she allowed him to leave and that was the first moment when Jane finally found he was able to relax. This money was going to go straight into his savings. He'd promised Angela the wedding of her dreams and that was precisely what she was going to get.

xxx

_October, 1993_

He had treated Angela to a brief vacation; they only had three days to spare in their schedule, but it was enough. This place very rarely supplied them with enough clientele to pack out their time, anyway. The town was more skeptical than most on the carnival route. Anybody who was foolish enough to attend was either especially easily to play or simply more fascinated by the animals they had in tow.

Jane knew that Angela was particularly unhappy at the moment and he couldn't blame her. After all, he wasn't especially happy himself. Despite the fact they had been married for three months already, his father was still breathing down their necks. He'd even started asking about grandkids – presumably so he could have more children to manipulate for his retirement fund – and the very mention of children made Angela all the more upset.

Despite this being a well-earned break for the pair of them, a belated honeymoon of sorts, neither one of them had appeared ready to rest. The arguments had reached a crescendo the moment they had arrived at the hotel, causing her to storm off in the direction of the bar. He'd been left alone, bemused, standing with their few possessions. After moving them to the room, he'd driven off. Jane knew that he needed time and space to think. And he also hoped that after she had a chance to calm down, they would be able to speak like the mature adults they were. As far as he was concerned, reconcilement was mandatory. Nobody should go to sleep on an argument.

But the fact that the fights had increased in regularity since marriage was a cause for concern. He'd never bought to the concept of wedded bliss, but he had never imagined that it would be as hard as this.

With a wilting bunch of drugstore flowers – they were all that he could get hold of at this time of night – he returned back to their hotel room. Angela had already returned and he could see her passed out on the bed. There were various empty bottles of alcohol scattered around the room and his heart sank. She was getting herself caught up in a dangerous game if she could only sleep with a few drinks inside of her.

Silently, he filled up a glass of water and left it beside her. His hopes of smoothing her ruffled feathers before bed had already been dashed.

Come morning, Jane found himself coaxing scrambled eggs on toast down Angela. She was very hung over and unsurprisingly so. The flower gesture went down fairly well, at least, and that was a relief. However, he knew that he had to get to the crux of the matter and soon. He couldn't stand to watch her spiraling into a descent of madness when he had the capabilities to stop it. It reminded him of the few sparse memories he had of his mother.

Eventually, she came out with one line, and one line only.

"I can't return to the carnival, Patrick. Can't you see? It's killing me."

xxx

_March, 1995_

He scoured the room, looking for his target. Jane had spent an hour previously meeting the people there, talking to them, shaking hands, thanking them for attending. The meet and greet was an essential part of his show; it allowed him to pick out the ideal marks for later on. Of course, they all thought it was him being nice, friendly, approachable, which also helped. It meant that they would be more willing to open up once he was on stage.

When he spotted her, two rows from the front, clinging onto her best friend's hand, he almost breathed a sigh of relief. Jane knew that the friend had been a skeptic, had been trying to persuade her to leave. It was his interruption that had probably made the younger girl, his mark decide to stay.

Jane breathed in and then out again. He clasped hold of the microphone that had been supplied by this tiny theater for his act before walking out onto the stage. It never took him long to get down to business. His audience was never here for small talk; what they wanted to see was him connecting with the deceased. Their loved ones which had passed onto another realm. They wanted forgiveness, apologies, answers, just an 'I love you'. And he could give them all of that and more. Though he was just pretending to know, they didn't know that. Some of them probably didn't even care because hope was something that simply couldn't have a value placed on it. It was priceless, except, of course, he _made_ people put an associated value to it and they were always all too willing to pay over the odds.

"I can see… in the light. There's a woman. She has a warm smile and graying hair. She says she's looking for her grandso- no, granddaughter?"

There was a shriek from the audience in the exact place he expected. He opened an eye to see the woman touching the pearl necklace around her neck. She had gone several shades paler in the shock and his eyes were rounded.

"Your grandmother?"

"She passed away three months ago."

"She misses you. She loves you," Jane said in a stage-whisper. "She hopes that you always understand that she'll be there for you, even now she's… passed on."

"I do, Grandma, I do."

The audience burst into a round of rapturous applause, already and he hadn't even gotten to the good part yet. This was the reason why he mingled with his attendees first, to pick up useful little tidbits to play with on stage.

"You're wasting your money? She doesn't want to see you get hurt?" Jane queried and the friend sent her a scathing look. Yes, she was definitely a gambler. "If you keep on wasting your money on gambling, you won't be able to support her great-grandson. And that is breaking her heart."

"I'm sorry!" she answered again, in a strangled sob. "I didn't mean to Grandma, it's just… I'm sorry. I'll stop letting you down!"

He basked in the audience approval. This was the kind of reaction which made him feel like he was at the center of the universe. Besides, he had done the girl a favor. Gambling _was_ a waste of time unless you knew you had an ace up your sleeve. Otherwise, the odds were very much not in your favor and the casinos just scooped up the winnings.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Angela at the door, shaking her head sadly. When she disappeared back out of the auditorium, he couldn't help but feel a nagging sense of guilt in the pit of his stomach. Her approval meant everything to him and the look on her face suggested that he had bitterly let her down.

Still, he took a sip of the water beside him and tried to refocus. He still had a show to put on, whatever Angela had thought of what he was doing.

xxx

_December, 1998_

"Where did you get that money from?" Angela asked, her tone scathing.

"A poker game," he answered. Gambling was the lesser of two evils as far as she was concerned.

"Liar."

He sighed; he should have known that he wouldn't have caught Angela out. Though she wasn't as skilled as he was, she certainly did know how to read him and read him well. The pained expression on her face said it all: you're causing me stress and I don't need that in my condition. Jane would have felt guilty, but as far as he was concerned they did need the money. They had a baby on the way and he was going to do everything to support the child – his child - that she was carrying. And this, this was the best way he knew of making money with the skills available to him.

"Fine. I got it from Mr. Cornelli; I offered him a free reading, but he insisted upon paying."

"The rich man who wants kids badly?" she asked, almost sounding intrigued.

"That's the one."

She glared at him and Jane frowned. Somehow, the Cornelli family had been convinced that his abilities meant he could see into the future. That he would be able to give them some inside tricks into fertility. Angela's pregnancy meant that he felt capable of giving limited advice and the man drank it up all too willingly. It also helped that he paid handsomely as well.

"If you keep on doing this, you're going to live to regret it."

"How so?"

"Don't you get it?" she snapped angrily. "This is a dangerous game you're playing and somebody is going to get hurt."

xxx

_July, 2005_

Jane stared at the ceiling aimlessly. He saw his daughter, dancing in the green grasses, picking flowers and laughing enthusiastically. Charlotte had been a gift. She had tempered Angela's feisty spirit and breathed life into their marriage. The five short years she had been alive had been the best of his life.

But the white dress she was wearing as she danced merrily soon turned blood red. And the happy expression written on her face always turned to one of pain and fear.

She was dead.

Dead, dead, dead.

And it was his fault.

If he wasn't being taunted by his little girl, it was his wife. She stood there, with a red smiley face daubed over her features, glaring at him. The look of bitter resentment was understandable. He'd made so many promises to her over the years and had kept precisely zero of them.

That had, ultimately, resulted in her early demise.

"I told you so, I told you so, I told you so," she chanted angrily. "It's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fault."

"It's good to see you sitting up today, ducky," an unfamiliar voice cut through the chanting. "I keep telling you, you need to start living again. Though I'm sure the dear Dr. Miller knows what she's doing with you."

Jane frowned as he slowly acknowledged the old woman who was pottering around his private suite (if you could even call it that) at the mental institution. He stared at her quizzically as she placed a bunch of peonies high up on a shelf in a vase. Angela's favorites. She just had to bring them, didn't she? Slowly, he let out a tempered breath. It wouldn't be long until she continued her rounds and left him in peace. Or at least, to drown in his own guilt and sorrows.

"I'll just leave these here for you, ducky," she said with a smile, which he didn't have the energy to return. "They brighten up the room nicely, don't they?"

xxx

_January, 2009_

"Jane!"

Her voice cut through the air like a knife. Almost immediately, his eyes sprang open. He'd been pretending to sleep on the couch, to avoid the awkward questions from his coworkers. Jane still hadn't entirely gotten used to the concept of working _with_ other people; for so long he had been used to being a free agent, to coming and going as he pleased.

Now, he had other people to answer to. He had rules and responsibilities and other nasty words like that he was expected to follow. People who were paid to help him out and vice versa.

And a boss.

And he had a badge, of sorts. Well, an identification card, at any rate.

Generally, he liked the people he was expected to work with. There was Van Pelt, who was naïve, open and spiritual. Rigsby was often close by to her. After all, he happened to be hopelessly in love with Van Pelt, but unable to do a thing about it. Then there was Cho, who was a closed book, but had a somewhat surprising deep-seated fear of anything to do with magic.

And there was Lisbon, of course.

She was as fiery and passionate as his wife. Driven to the point of developing an ulcer. Utterly committed to her job. The very definition of no-nonsense. And she carried about an air of cynicism, most likely to protect herself from hurt and heartache.

It was her, who just happened to be storming towards him. If she wasn't a cop, he would have classified it as a murderous rage. Instead, he knew that she was just very, very angry and that as far as she was concerned, he was the culprit. They had only been working intensively together for a relatively short time, but she already made it clear that sometimes, he could be the bane of her very existence.

"What's wrong?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath.

"Don't you dare act innocent with me; you know _exactly_ what you did wrong."

He grinned. Of course he did, and that was half of the fun. If nothing else, she couldn't complain that the workplace was boring with him around. Unfortunately, the air of professionalism that she insisted upon maintaining seemed to suggest otherwise. It was his personal mission to convince her otherwise. That was something that provided him with a brief respite when he wasn't focusing on slaughtering the serial killer who murdered his wife and child, anyway.

xxx

_September, 2012_

Over time, their relationship changed.

Lisbon had a strong sense of loyalty, which he couldn't fault her for. So many other cops in her position would have long since given up on him, had insisted that he was more of a hindrance than a help. But she stuck by him through thick and thin. Even now, she occasionally threw out the 'he closes cases' reasoning for keeping him around, but he knew that it had to run deeper than that.

Because it was slowly but surely running that little bit deeper for him as well

She had seen him at his very worst – on the occasions when Red John had slipped through their fingers and he'd gone onto have a mini breakdown. If he caused problems with people, she was the one to smooth over the ruffled feathers. Lisbon had saved him more times than he cared to remember – and more times than he would ever have admitted to her. She wouldn't have believed him even if he did, anyway.

Another year had come and gone. Red John had escaped yet another time. His hands were shaking as he placed the teacup down on the counter. Each breath he took felt a little bit more rattled. She insisted that they had taken baby steps forwards in the case, but he just couldn't see it. Red John felt as elusive as ever and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. If he had the energy, he might have cried. But he didn't and he wouldn't have wanted to put Lisbon in that position anyway. He dragged her through hell and back enough as it was.

Only now could he see just how foolhardy his plan had been this time around. And only now could he see the mixture of fear, of anger, of hurt in Lisbon's eyes.

"If you keep on going the way that you are, you're going to end up with nothing, Jane," Lisbon muttered with a sad shake of the head. "Playing games with Red John is dangerous and you know it. I don't want to see you get hurt, okay? But I know I can't stop you, so what's the point?"

Jane paused for a second.

The last time a woman he cared deeply about had said something like that, she had been almost prophetic. It had ended up in tragedy.

How many other people got a second chance to make the right decision?

He couldn't risk losing a woman that he loved to a monster again.

Could he?


	4. Just Be

**A/N: **This was written with Divinia Serit in mind - happy birthday! I also wanted to write something a little lighter after coming off of writing _Kith & Kin_ (ch34 of 50 Ways to Feel.)

Thank you to: April, kateyo, Lothlorien Aeterna, Ebony10, lolly2222, Lothiriel84 and Frogster for reviewing _Black and Blue_. Another thank you to Lothiriel84 for nominating Black and Blue for an award in the 2012 Jellies, where the nominating process is currently ongoing. It's much appreciated.

x tromana

* * *

**Title: **Just Be  
**Author: **tromana  
**Rating: **T  
**Characters: **Jane/Lisbon  
**Summary: **She's the exception to a lot of your rules. Episode tag to 4x24 The Crimson Hat  
**Disclaimer: **Not mine  
**Notes: **Happy Birthday to my wonderful, wonderful twin, Divinia Serit! I hope you enjoy this ficlet. Also written for Paint It Red's Table D: Prompt 05: Sound of silence.

**Just Be**

She finds you soon enough; nestled deep in your attic space. During your prolonged absence, nothing has changed up here, excepting the thin layer of dust that has slowly but surely gathered. Why would it change? Nobody else uses this space. That's why you adopted it as your own a few years ago.

Half of you can imagine her escaping up here from time to time, though. Disturbing the dust, sitting on the makeshift bed and just wishing you would respond to her calls, her text messages, and her e-mails. Coming up here to dissociate herself from the hubbub in the lower floors.

And to feel just that little bit closer to you.

It should be humbling and in a strange sort of way, it is. However, at the same time, it's something you've grown to expect of her.

Not that you aren't just as predictable as she is at times.

After all, it took her but ten minutes after your flight from the interrogation room to find you up here. As soon as the door creaked open, you realized just who it would be. This isn't a task she would dare entrust on any of the others, after all. The crooked half smile of relief briefly dances on her lips when she realizes she's right soon disappears, though. You know she has never taken much pride in her abilities.

Carefully, she closes the (literal) distance between you and not a moment too soon.

She even has two cups of steaming hot tea in hand. That's probably what caused the delay in her joining you up here.

Usually, you don't like it much when other people prepare your tea. You're very particular about it. Teresa Lisbon is the one exception to that rule.

Then again, she's the exception to a lot of your rules.

In silence, you nod your thanks to her and accept the drink. You don't test it though, not yet. It's too hot for that. Besides, you already know that it'll be a perfectly acceptable cup of tea, anyway. She's probably been drinking it a lot more herself lately, too. For old time's sake or some nonsensical reason like that, anyway.

Instead, you balance it precariously on your lap.

When she takes her seat beside you, not even bothering to wait for an invite, she doesn't look at you. That's a blessed relief. You're too deep in your own thoughts right now.

Instead, you spend the time twisting the wedding ring around your finger. It's something you do every time you feel nervous, agitated. Contrary to popular belief, it doesn't make you feel any closer to your deceased wife (that's impossible), but the repetitive action helps you think through your issues. And if nothing else, it can give you something else to focus on instead of the unerring sense of guilt.

Really, you deserve far worse than what she's already hurled at you over the past couple of days. If anything, she's gone easy on you.

You've sent her through hell and back, these past few months, but no amount of apologies is going to make that any better.

But somehow, despite all that, she's still here, by your side and waiting.

Despite the guilt, it's a relief to be close by her again. For months, you've felt like a boat without a rudder, drifting senselessly along to who knows where. Even with the plan…

The plan, oh, the latest plan to get closer to Red John. It's yet another one that can be listed amongst your failures. You're losing count of those already, but that doesn't matter now. It's the one thing that kept you sane during those long months away from here.

The one thing that you hoped meant you would be able to procure her forgiveness.

Even now, you're not entirely sure if you've earned it. It's too soon after the event. More time needs to pass to allow the dust to settle. And that's if it can even be classified as 'over' just yet. After all, you have Lorelei Martins in custody, just waiting to be broken. You're confident you can yield information from her, but how soon? That remains to be seen. Besides, who knows just what traps Red John has laid in her pretty little mind? Maybe the plan wasn't a complete and utter disaster, but that remains to be seen.

Regardless, you know that Lisbon's been worn thin by this whole sorry state of affairs. Probably just as much as you are now; the stress of all this will take a long time to recover from. It takes far less time to break something than it does to put the pieces back together again. That's something you understand all too well from past experiences.

Still, you continue twisting the ring and scrutinizing her. You wonder if, this time, it was all worth it. If there had been another way.

What could happen if you didn't have the issue of Red John loitering in between you.

What you would _want_ to happen, if it were at all possible.

She's seen you at your worst, and she's stuck by you through thick and thin. Anybody else would have run for the hills a long time ago and justifiably so. At times, you've been utterly reprehensible, but she's taken it all.

Why?

You know why.

When you said those two words, those dangerous two words that had snuck their way out during one, fateful, charged moment, you had absolutely meant them.

There are only two other people who you've ever dared to say 'love you' to: your wife and your daughter.

It's never been words that you can say too easily. They mean something, that's why.

She hasn't said them back yet, but she doesn't need to. And you know, she's not entirely sure what you meant when you said it. But it's safer that way; the longer she's lost in the depths of confusion, the less at risk she is from a personal attack from Red John. He cannot know just how happy you make one another; he already sees you as his personal plaything.

You already know that he thinks Lisbon is expendable – knows that you find her a price too high to pay.

He knows that she's a distraction.

And all the wishing and hoping in the world isn't going to make her life any less in danger. All you can do now is apply damage control.

Slowly, she turns to face you in turn and opens her mouth. Whatever she's thinking soon fizzles out because, instead, she takes a sip of her drink.

There are so many words that could slip from between her lips.

So many things you wouldn't mind hearing her say.

None of it is necessary; not now.

She knows you, you know her.

The feel of her hand resting gently beside yours as you sit, sipping at the hot tea is enough. It has to be.

For now.


	5. Let Me Down Easy

**A/N:** Thanks to SteeleSimz, Lothlorien Aeterna, Special Agent Baker, MerriWyllow, livingandthriving, April, Little-Firestar84, Lothiriel84, Miss Peg, Divinia Serit (as Guest :p) and Ebony10 for reviewing _Just Be_.

x tromana

* * *

**Title: **Let Me Down Easy  
**Author: **tromana  
**Rating: **T  
**Characters: **Jane/Lisbon  
**Summary: **What if Jane had been convicted of murder? Episode tag to 4x01 Scarlet Ribbons  
**Disclaimer: **Not mine  
**Notes: **More optimistic than it sounds! Written for the Paint It Red August 2012 Monthly Challenge. Prompt: Sine qua non: An indispensable thing.

**Let Me Down Easy**

She let out a strangled sob as the word 'guilty' echoed around the courtroom.

Quickly, Lisbon attempted to regain her composure, but she already knew it was too late. Jane shot a quizzical look at her from the dock shortly before he was dragged away. In response, she shook her head ever so slightly, it was barely perceptible to the majority of people, but he'd know. Or at least, if anyone was likely to work out what she had meant, it was going to be him.

When she had discovered that Jane had shot a man down dead in the middle of a busy shopping mall, she had been more than a little horrified. Of course, she had immediately blamed herself, racked her brains for ways that she could have stopped him from committing a serious crime and subsequently, felt hollow inside. Lisbon had believed that her years of working with him (and _on_ him) had made a difference. That he had changed his perception on vengeance and that trusting the law would have been enough for him.

But she had been spectacularly wrong.

And that was why she had just found herself in this scenario.

The funny thing was, she wasn't as angry with him as she'd thought she'd have been. Of course, there was the inherent distaste in her mouth. That was only natural; she was a cop through and through. However, at the same time, it had been Red John he'd killed. That made it different. His seven year long quest was over; he'd done what he set out to do. He'd gotten his revenge and therefore, Lisbon could only hope that he had also managed to get the peace he so obviously craved.

Slowly, she watched as people filtered out and as a consequence, the hubbub of chatter disappeared after them. Her team sat quietly beside her; Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt, all loyal to a fault. She knew that they wouldn't leave her alone. They all cared about Jane (almost) as much as she did. Probably, they were still reeling from the shock of him actually being convicted too.

Though, it wasn't a shock in the slightest. There had been hundreds of witnesses to the murder and it had been undeniably premeditated. Even Jane, with all his ways with words, wouldn't have been able to talk his way out of this one.

There was a silver lining, if she could look at it in such a way. This had only been the conviction, not the sentencing. She wasn't entirely sure, but Lisbon suspected that death had been wiped clean off the table. He couldn't go to death row, could he? Not after all he had done for the state through his work with the CBI? With her?

Then again, as far as she knew, that was over. Her team, her faithful team who were still sitting beside her in an empty courtroom weren't actually her team any more. They'd been split up, shifted into alternative positions. She knew that already. As for her own fate? Well, that was yet to be sealed. Lisbon had a meeting scheduled with Bertram after she had made a 'full' recovery from the shooting, but she suspected the worst. She had spectacularly lost control of Jane and allowed him to kill another man. If she were in the director's shoes, _she_ wouldn't have given herself her job back.

All of that still felt inconsequential though.

The unerring sense of loss had just hit her completely. There had to be an easier way to deal with this. Instead of giving her a warning, instead of making it easier on her, it had all fallen on top of her like a ton of bricks and there was nothing she could do but react to it. If she'd known his plans, if she'd realized he was buckling under the pressure of hunting down Red John, then maybe they could have done something differently. Maybe Jane could have said goodbye to them all, one by one and just left them to find Red John. Maybe she could have left – as she once promised to – instead of having to deal with the fallout.

Instead, she had just lost everything in one swift moment.

Her job.

Security.

Friendship.

Something more?

The gentle nudge of Grace Van Pelt's elbow in her ribcage broke her out of her reverie, reminded her that they really had to get moving. This place would soon be filling up with a new set of people, ready and waiting to hear judgment on another crime. Ready to destroy other people's lives, perhaps. Throughout her career, she had been so fixated on fighting injustice, giving people answers, bringing back hope. For the first time in a long while, she remembered that not only did the victim have family and friends too, but the perpetrator as well.

Briefly, she wondered if Jane realized just how much his actions had hurt them, beyond the physical ramifications, of course. It was merely coincidence that she was still nursing an injury, with no thanks to his crackpot plan to capture Red John. The emotional fallout would take much longer to heal from, she suspected. No, that was something she already knew from prior experience.

_Damn him_, she thought, _damn him to hell_.

Of course, she didn't mean it. That was just the anger and frustration boiling in the pit of her stomach.

"You okay, boss?" Van Pelt asked quietly as they slowly exited the building.

"Fine."

Her tone was clipped, short. She didn't bother to correct Van Pelt; to remind her that she wasn't her boss any more. Lisbon's energy was spent elsewhere.

When Van Pelt didn't bother to chase it and they parted company, Lisbon was relieved.

This was something she desperately needed some space to think over.

xxx

It took her two months to visit him in jail.

That hadn't been her intention; Lisbon had initially wanted to see Jane as soon as possible after his conviction. However, real life had gotten in the way. There had been regular rounds of physical therapy, meetings with the CBI, getting herself a new job with the FBI and so on. In a way, it felt like she hadn't had time to stop and breathe, never mind anything else. Now she had finally felt like the dust had begun to settle and she could make time to speak to him.

The last time she had seen him had been a month ago, across a courtroom to hear his sentencing. Thankfully, she had been right about her suspicions about the death sentence. Given Jane's complex relationship with the Red John case and the amount of criminals he had assisted in apprehending, the judge had gone easy on him. Still, he was facing many years in jail and nothing was going to change that fact.

In a way, she knew it was justified. Expected, even. That didn't stop it from hurting, however.

He'd let her down, that much was evident.

She waited impatiently at the metal table, incessantly ringing her hands together. It felt good to have some freedom back in her right arm, but she knew it wasn't fully healed just yet. Her therapist was hopeful that time would give her back the full mobility she used to enjoy, but Lisbon had always been an impatient soul. Another convict glared at her as he strolled past. Briefly she remembered carnie folk – Jane's kind – telling her just how obvious it was that she was a cop and she shook her head sadly.

But when she spotted him being guided towards her, she brightened up instantly.

"I hear congratulations are in order?" he said the moment they had been left alone.

She brushed it aside. "It shouldn't have come to that."

"Still. A better position, with the FBI, no less…"

"I was happy where I was. I didn't _want _to leave."

"I know." Lisbon stared at him and for once, he looked uncomfortable underneath her scrutinizing glare. "I'm sorry," he finally added and she let out a heavy sigh. "I mean it."

"You should have talked to me."

"No," Jane answered firmly.

"No?" she echoed, incredulous.

"You would have stopped me."

"Exactly."

Lisbon watched carefully, but he soon glanced away. Instead, he persisted in twisting his wedding band around his ring finger. It was not too dissimilar to the way she had been playing with her own hands just minutes earlier.

"You're looking good. Better now you have your arm back."

"I wish I could say the same for you."

It was clear that jail hadn't gone easy on him. Or at least, not as easy as it had been on prior occasions. This was probably because this was due to be a much longer stint, one that felt indefinite to the both of them. It was a necessary evil, of course. After all, no man should have been allowed to get away with murder, not even Patrick Jane. However, Lisbon knew that jail was a terrible place for a cop to be, and Jane was probably as good as one according to the inmates. He was never going to get away with it easily.

And she hated that.

However, there was nothing she could do.

All she could do was cling to the vain hope that he would get through this in one piece. That it wouldn't destroy him bit by bit. And, though he would have hated it, she had offered up more than one prayer in his honor. Just because she was still angry with him, it didn't mean she had stopped caring about him. That wasn't something she felt capable of just turning off or on.

"The tea's crap here," Jane said eventually.

"Please," she retorted, unable to hide the smirk on her face. "I know you're not as fussy about tea as you make out to be."

"Doesn't change the fact that the tea tastes like crap," he replied with a pout.

"I'll see what I can do."

Once more, they fell into an awkward silence. It surprised Lisbon just how difficult it had become to speak to him now. She longed for the days of easy banter, but she hoped that it would come back in time. When they had adjusted to this new situation they had found themselves in. Besides, she still had to forgive both him and herself for landing themselves in this mess, however justified it was.

She had gotten too lucky when it came to finding herself a new position. If the director of the FBI hadn't believed she had been wrongly punished for Jane's misdemeanors, then she would never have been hired by them. It didn't make the transition any easier though. Nor did it make the slightest difference to what Jane had done, and what he'd have to endure as a consequence.

"Jane?"

"Yes?"

"Are you happy? Now it's over?"

"No."

She nodded and almost felt vindicated by his response. Lisbon didn't need an explanation as to why he was unhappy; she had enough suspicions as it was. Maybe he had learned his lessons about the costs now, albeit slightly too late? That was something she could only hope for. Still, she stood and began to make her way out. Lisbon had always hated being within the confines of a jail; it was a place where she truly felt unwelcome. That was hardly surprising, given the fact that she had dedicated her life to capturing criminals and putting them in places like this.

It took a lot of reminders to make it sink in that Jane did actually belong in a place like this. For too long, she had deceived herself into believing he was an inherently good man. In reality, she had known he was capable of killing for as long as she'd known him. Still, even with her reminders about the fact that Jane was now a cold-blooded murderer, she couldn't help but think that it wasn't implicitly black and white. The murder of Red John had been the exception to the rule; Jane wouldn't kill again. She knew that.

"Stay in touch?" he called after her and she turned to face him.

"Of course."

end


	6. Blood, Sweat and Tears

**A/N: **It's been a while since I last wrote anything for this collection. Sorry!

Thank you to: Little-Firestar84, Lothlorien Aeterna, MerriWyllow, Lothiriel84, castiello and Miss Peg fore reviewing Let Me Down Easy.

x tromana

* * *

**Title: **Blood, Sweat & Tears  
**Author: **tromana  
**Rating: **T  
**Characters: **Jane/Lisbon  
**Summary: **The pain of realizing you love somebody, but knowing there's a wedge between you and there's not much you can do about it.  
**Disclaimer: **Not mine  
**Notes: **Halfway through this collection now!

**Blood, Sweat & Tears**

He thinks she's driving herself crazy for him.

Or at least, that's what she guesses he thinks. She cannot work it out precisely without specifically asking. After all, she cannot do the crazy mind tricks and read people's body language. She's not him. But she does know him well and like him, she does get hunches. They're just less specific than any he has.

Lisbon has started learning when he's lying, at any rate.

And everything about him is lying right now. He says he doesn't care about anything else and that he's only here for Red John. She and him, they're friends but nothing more and nothing less.

That's not what his lips say when they make a big break in a case though. It's not what his hands say whenever they brush up against her body as they walk side by side. It's not what his eyes say when he spots her first thing in the morning.

Maybe, Lisbon surmises, he's rubbing off on her. Or maybe, she's just had these skills all along and they have been lying, latent, within the back of her mind.

Or, more likely, it's him and him alone that she can read. They are so in sync that people often mistook them for an old married couple, much to her chagrin. Sometimes, she privately agrees that they might as well be, but not very often. And although he may well have been denying what he really thinks, she knows precisely what she feels about him.

And thus, he probably knows that she knows how she feels.

To him, she's translucent, after all.

Lisbon pretends that this doesn't bother her. In fact, she pretends that nothing has changed at all. Her feelings haven't bloomed and grown into something completely different than they were at the start. She remembers a time when she was wary and distrustful of him. There was a time when she knew how to keep him (and consequently, other people) at arm's length. She remembers when she hadn't practically sacrificed her career in order to keep him afloat.

But she also remembers just how hard it was to work like that. How stubborn she was. How much of his behavior she simply misunderstood.

Letting him in had seemed like the lesser of two evils.

At the time, she had never imagined she could do such a thing as fall in love with him. She'd always thought herself too sensible for such a thing.

But it's happened. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

Like him, she works on the Red John case on her own. The only way he'll be able to move on is if he can put those demons to bed. Lisbon doesn't want to lose him in the process, so closing it on her own is the only way she can stop him from doing anything stupid.

Because that's what they do.

She knows that she needs to stop Jane from going too far.

He helps her to see what she couldn't on her own.

They work better together, anyway

xxx

He needs to keep her at arm's length.

It's safer, that way.

Every time Jane gets too close to somebody, he loses them.

Angela.

Charlotte.

Kristina.

He refuses point blank to add Teresa Lisbon to that list. It's just too high a cost.

It requires a superhuman amount of effort for him to keep away somebody as persistent as Lisbon. However, he knows that it's worth it. Every day he sees her at work, every time she smiles at him, every time she lectures him and tells him off for his misdemeanors is another day that Red John hasn't stolen her away from him.

Jane has known about the target painted on her back for far longer than she has.

He didn't tell her any sooner than he needed to, simply because he didn't want the knowledge eating her up from inside. It's doing enough damage to him anyway.

Somewhere along the line, he's fallen in love with her. In a way, it almost feels like it was inevitable. However, as long as Red John is out there, he knows he cannot have her. Then, there's no chance that he'll ever be able to keep hold of her.

It's why he spends many hours alone in the attic, working laboriously hard on the Red John case. This isn't just about revenge; in truth, it hasn't been for a long, long while. Now, it's about reclaiming his future, meaning he can actually _have_ one instead of living in this state of limbo.

Ever since gunning down the wrong man, he's been planning on giving Red John up to her. She doesn't know it yet. In fact, she believes that he's as determined to kill the serial killer as ever.

What he does know, however, is that she sees straight through his petty lies.

Somewhere along the line, she has learned how to read him. Not as well as he can read her, of course, but well enough. She knows how he feels about her. Lisbon realizes that he is constantly denying it and pushing her away as a consequence. Every time he does so, his heart breaks just a little. There's nothing more he wants than to be able to take her into his arms and never let her go.

But somehow, even something as simple as a mere hug seems like it could be too risky.

Hugs with Lisbon could lead to anything and he knows it.

Sometimes, he thinks it would be safer for the both of them if he just left. Worked on the Red John case alone. Forgot about what it was like to be around her virtually all day, every day. He's a dangerous figure to be associated with and Jane's sick of seeing the people he cares about being hurt because of his folly.

Jane still needs her in his life though.

She tempers his spirit, brings a calming air into his life.

He gives her more of a zest for life in return.

In a way, he needs her.

She once said 'we're a team' and he agrees wholeheartedly.


	7. Beauty of the End

**A/N: **Well... this is actually the first story I planned when I decided to write this collection. It turned out to be a notoriously difficult one to write.

Thank you to: xXxStarGazerxXx, SteeleSimz, Little-Firestar84, MerriWyllow and Lothiriel84 for reviewing _Blood, Sweat & Tears_.

Also: happy birthday to the wonderful Frogster! Writing this made me think of your comment to _The Search is Over_, so I hope you enjoy this one too...

x tromana

* * *

**Title: **Beauty of the End  
**Author: **tromana  
**Rating: **T  
**Characters: **Jane/Angela, Jane/Lisbon  
**Summary: **During his six month absence from the CBI, Jane writes a series of letters to his wife and daughter.  
**Spoilers:** 4x24 The Crimson Hat  
**Disclaimer: **Not mine  
**Notes: **Written for Lothiriel84 in the 2012 Paint It Red Great Stocking Exchange

**Beauty of the End**

Angela, my love,

It has been too long since I last wrote to you.

Red John is still out there. Still killing people, still ruining mine.

Still trying to destroy me.

Do I still want him dead? Of course I do. At my hands, or at somebody else's? Right now, it doesn't seem to matter quite so much.

Now, I feel like I need to be more proactive in my search for your killer. I know that you hate revenge, and you probably hate the fact that this is one of the very few things that keeps me going, but I cannot help it. I feel like I have no choice but to continue with my fight; sometimes, it seems like Red John has made that decision for me.

I have a plan.

The only way I can get close to Red John is by willingly walking into the proverbial dragon's lair.

I need to persuade Red John that I have fallen off the brink into insanity. Somehow, I need to bend the rules of the CBI so far that I will be forced out. I need him to believe that I require 'saving', that I have 'seen the light' and I wish to be on 'his side'.

All I can do is hope that it doesn't cost me too much.

I love you so much. Not a day goes by without me thinking about how much I miss you and little Lottie. Send her my love.

I love you.

With all my heart,

Patrick xxx

* * *

My dear Angela,

The plan is in motion.

Please don't hate me for it.

-Patrick x

* * *

Angela,

It has been one week, four hours and twenty-three minutes since I was fired from the CBI.

It has been one week, four hours and twenty-one minutes since I last saw and spoke to Teresa Lisbon.

I am now living in Las Vegas; the sin capital of the country. If there is any place where I can stage a breakdown, then this is the one.

I miss the security of the CBI.

I miss Lisbon.

And I miss you.

I'm meant to be feeling like I'm getting closer and closer to my target. Instead, I feel like I'm getting further away from it.

Maybe I really am suffering from a descent into insanity?

Until next time…

Patrick x

* * *

My little Lottie,

I love you to the moon and back.

I wish you were still here. You are my pride and joy; I'd give anything to have seen you grow up into the beautiful young woman you were always going to be.

I still think about you every day. I still imagine what you would be doing today.

It hurts when I think about what you must think of me.

Please know that, whatever I do, it is always with you in mind.

I have not gone mad. I am just trying to catch a bad man.

I hope I'm not scaring you too much.

With lots of love, hugs and kisses.

Daddy xxxxx

* * *

Dearest Angela…

I'm not sure if the plan is working.

All I seem to be doing is causing chaos to no avail.

I bet you and Lisbon are both having a good laugh at my idiocy.

Love, always…

Patrick xx

* * *

Angela,

I was probably wrong about Lisbon.

She hasn't stopped texting or calling since I left.

I should have known that this would happen; I shouldn't have underestimated her.

It seems like I'm only capable of hurting the people I care about. And yet, I've not really done anything to earn the care and consideration. Maybe, I should have entrusted her with the details of my plan. But then, would it have really worked? I need to look like I'm completely off the radar and by indulging in my desire to have contact with her, it would fail spectacularly. I know it.

I hope you're not as worried about me as she is. She seems to be doing enough worrying for the both of you.

Love Patrick xxx

* * *

My dear Angela,

I've met an… interesting woman lately.

Or at least, she seems to have taken a vested interest in _me_.

I'm not sure, but I think she may have links to Red John. Why else would she be so determined to get to know me? Unless, she's just interested in the fact that 'I speak to dead people' and after a psychic reading.

Like the last two women who built my hopes up were.

-Patrick xx

PS. Her name is Lorelei. Is that a sign?

* * *

My beautiful Angela-

Lorelei has been talking to me more lately. Some of things she says got me thinking. She's definitely not interested in my psychic readings. Nor is she after the drugs I've been dealing in order to stage my breakdown further.

I needed to move things onwards. I think she's the one I've been waiting for.

I got myself arrested.

I'm sorry.

And I wish I could say that to Teresa, too.

-Patrick

* * *

Lottie, my darling girl-

Please don't think less of your daddy because he got arrested.

It's just a game, honest.

Remember: your daddy loves you and he always will.

xxx

* * *

Dearest Angela-

I slept with Lorelei.

It wasn't an act of love; I didn't want to or mean to dishonor you or our vows. I'm sorry. Again.

But she told me she was working for Red John. She was his 'gift' to me.

I was right.

I just hope that the price wasn't too much.

I will always love you,

Patrick xxx

* * *

Angela-

Teresa agrees with you that my plan is stupid.

Sometimes, I wonder if your voices are beginning to sound the same in my head.

Jane x

* * *

So.

I told Teresa that I love her.

She pretended not to realize what I said, but I know she knows. And she knows that I know she knows.

The last person I said those words to landed up dead.

As you well know.

I do hope I've not tempted fate…

Jane

* * *

Lottie,

I wonder what you would think of Teresa.

She can get mad very easily, but she is a very nice lady when you get to know her. It just takes a lot of hard work.

I wonder if you would mind if she ever becomes your step-mom.

It wouldn't mean I'd think anything less of you, my beautiful baby girl, or of your mommy.

But she is very special to me.

With lots and lots of love,

Daddy xxx

* * *

Angela,

I always said I wouldn't fall in love with another woman since you. I think we both know that I was wrong now.

I do love Teresa – but it's too dangerous.

I can't do anything about it, not yet, anyway.

But please, always know that I have enough room for the both of you in my heart.

Patrick xxxx

* * *

Dear Angela-

It's over. The game is up. We haven't caught Red John, but we do have Lorelei in custody.

I don't know how Teresa managed it, but somehow, I am back working for the CBI. If I believed in miracles, than maybe I would call it that. Instead, I figure that she just (somehow) pulled a hell of a lot of favors.

Agent Wainwright has been killed by Red John. There is another mole within the FBI. Maybe it's Agent Darcy? But I don't know; she seems too obvious.

I don't think Teresa has forgiven me yet, but I can't blame her for that. Maybe one day, she will. I hope so, anyway. I don't think I can live without her. Not anymore. At least she wants me to stay close beside her. It's better than nothing; I've missed her during these past six months.

And I hope that we're nearing the end of this sorry mess. Red John needs to be caught and soon.

I love you.

Please give Charlotte a big hug and a kiss for me. Tell her that her daddy loves her too.

With love,

Patrick xxxx


	8. When You're Gone

**A/N: **Sorry for not updating this collection recently.

Thank you to: Frogster, MerriWyllow and Lothiriel84 for reviewing _Beauty of the End_.

x tromana

* * *

**Title: **When You're Gone  
**Author: **tromana  
**Rating: **T  
**Characters: **Jane/Lisbon  
**Summary: **Five times Jane thought Lisbon might leave him, and one time she actually did.  
**Spoilers:** some late season 4 ones, but nothing after. I think.  
**Disclaimer: **Not mine  
**Notes: **Written for lolly2222 in the 2012 Paint It Red Great Stocking Exchange

**When You're Gone**

i.

Teresa Lisbon is an interesting woman, he thinks. Their first case together almost ended in disaster, but somehow, he managed to pull things together and almost impress her. She's annoyed though, that much is apparent. The look in her eye, whenever he manages to catch it, that is, suggests that she is not that impressed by his 'antics'. But then, what to him is logic is sheer insanity to her. Lisbon has been taught how to follow the rulebook to the letter whereas he takes a sideways glance at it before throwing it out of the window.

He thinks they could be able to work well together, somehow. The only problem is that they have to trust one another. But then, he already knows that trust is a difficult subject when it comes to this specific agent. One quick read of her tells him all that he needs to know: she's been let down time and time again. Breaking down her barriers is going to be as much of a challenge for him as putting himself back together is.

Jane knows that his life is a mess at the moment. Despite the fact he's been released from that mental institution with a clean bill of health, it doesn't mean that he's sane. He's just very good at lying and wearing masks to cover his real identity. In truth, he's still deep in mourning for his beloved wife and daughter. And none of that is going to change, at least not until Red John is six feet under.

He's waiting outside Virgil Minelli's office currently. Jane knows that Lisbon is in a meeting with the special senior agent, and he's nervously awaiting the outcome. He cannot blame her for being frustrated at his methods when they differ so vastly from her own. As far as he's concerned, it came out with the required result, so what does it matter? However, he'd seen that she had issues from the offset of their partnership and he wouldn't be surprised if it has ended before it's even really had a chance to get going.

But he wants – needs –this chance. It isn't just a case of Red John, Red John, Red John. He's relying on this job to help him rediscover who he is as a person. He wants to repay his debt to society. He wants to prove to himself as much as anybody else that, deep down, he is still a good person. And Lisbon, she just seems to be a block in the road right now. She might not even give him the chance to absolve his sins.

Eventually, she storms out of the office, clearly unhappy with the way the meeting went. She looks him straight in the eye and she's frowning.

"One last chance, Mr. Jane," she seethes, quietly simmering with rage underneath her concise words. "That's all I'm giving you."

He doesn't know whether to laugh or cry at the result.

ii

He accidentally gets a man killed when trying to close a case.

Jane didn't mean to; he thought he'd had the situation under control. However, the woman had reacted worse than he'd initially anticipated, but in retrospect, it wasn't that surprising. Then it snowballed out of control, landing up with her husband dead on the kitchen floor, her fleeing outside with Lisbon hot on her heels. Despite having worked for the CBI for three years now, this is the first time (since the initial case) where things have gone quite so disastrously out of hand.

The first case had been a learning curve for him, he'd worked out where and how he had been pushing things too far. Since then, he's calmed down his behavior and managed to find something that works for him. It still annoys Lisbon on occasion, but not to the extent where she's wanted to kick him out on his ass. However, this case is evidence that he has grown complacent, that he's started pushing things too far once again.

He knows why, though. It's because he's frustrated. Cases like this one seem like a waste of precious time and resources, especially when there are serial killers out there waiting to be caught. But there's been so little progress in the Red John case it makes him question his very motive for offering his services to the CBI. The serial killer has been ominously silent for a considerable amount of time now and it worries him. There's been too many lives lost and destroyed thanks to Red John and yet, he continues to elude them. Something needs to be done and yet, without more evidence, there's no way he can move.

When Lisbon finally returns to the Tolliver family home, with the wife in cuffs, she looks like she's just about ready to murder him with her bare hands. Jane is used to this and her frustrations. Barely a week goes by without her admonishing him for one misdemeanor or another. However, it's been a very long while since he's last seen her this angry.

And automatically, he panics.

What if he's gone too far?

What if this is the straw that broke the camel's back?

What if she's finally realized that she cannot handle this – and him – anymore?

They've skirted around trust issues for so long now, but Jane had believed they were just about rubbing along nicely now. But of course, he's inadvertently responsible for a murder now. And that, as far as Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon is concerned, reflects badly on her as well. It means she cannot control him, she fears that there will be repercussions in other ways too. A lack of respect from her subordinates, doubts from her superiors and the feeling of failure from her highest critic – herself.

They sit in a stony silence while in the SUV on the way back to the CBI headquarters. All the while, the knot in his stomach continues to tighten itself.

"You're on suspension," she eventually mutters. "For three weeks. Now, go. I don't want to see you again until it's over."

iii.

Jane had always known that William McTeer had been Lisbon's career maker. Before joining the CBI, he'd done his research into his future co-workers and it had been her most publicized case. It was little wonder that Virgil Minelli had head-hunted her for his Serious Crimes Unit. She was young, beautiful and most importantly, good at her job. In short, she'd been the perfect poster girl for the CBI at the time.

And since joining, she'd been successful too. Why else would Minelli continually entrust her with the most important cases in the state of California. Why else would he have believed that she, of all people, would be capable of reining him in?

But nobody had expected that the McTeer case would come back and bite them on the ass. It was meant to be ancient history, buried in the past.

It's little wonder that Lisbon has been on edge since seeing his dead body.

She's been moodier, distant and paranoid. He couldn't blame her for that; he has more than enough skeletons buried in his closest. Jane wouldn't want her to know anything about them. And yet, Lisbon currently has to endure people questioning absolutely everything she stands for. It's little wonder she's beginning to buckle underneath the pressure. Anybody would if they were in her shoes right now.

And just for a moment, Jane had questioned whether or not her behavior is due to the fact she is responsible and trying desperately to hide her guilt, or if she genuinely couldn't remember what she'd been doing on the night William McTeer had been killed.

Then, he wonders if he's losing touch with her. He doesn't know if he's underestimated her all this time or if he never really knew her in the first place. But that would be ludicrous; she's easy to read and her motives have always been clear all this time. However, he knows what it's like to have a devil on his shoulder; maybe Mr. McTeer is her equivalent? Maybe she genuinely couldn't stand to see a guilty man walk free, with the abilities and capabilities to commit heinous crimes once again. It must be galling, seeing your hard work being undone and tossed aside, like a piece of trash.

But still, he trusts her. He knows she's not driven by vengeance; she just upholds the law because it's what she believes in. It may not be perfect, but it works for her. She cannot even conceive killing a man in cold blood, because that's not what she does, however cruel somebody may be. He knows she _can_ kill, and has even seen her do so. However, that's always been self-defense or defending a member of her team. It's always been the last option left to her.

The fear in her eyes scares him. He knows there's a very real chance he can lose her to this, whether or not she's guilty.

But he can tell it's a frame job, because she didn't expect to find McTeer's body surrounded by all those dumpsters.

And he knows, he has to do _everything_ to clear her good name.

She's all he has left now.

iv.

Red John comes and goes; an omnipresent shadow on his otherwise pleasant existence with the CBI.

There had been a time when he'd believed that he would never fall in love again. Not since losing Angela, and not since losing Charlotte. However, he's always been inexplicably drawn to Lisbon and finds himself simultaneously holding her as close as possible and at arm's length at the same time. Even Jane had realized there was only so long before something snapped.

He's always sought Lisbon's approval, even if he never particularly realized it at first. There's something about her confirmation that she agrees with his methods, likes his style and approves of the results which makes him inexplicably happy. However, he's always been scared that when (not if) he does something wrong, that she'll just cast him aside.

Jane doesn't know how to live without her. Not anymore. When he joined the CBI he'd been looking for a reason to live again. He'd never imagined it would come in the form of a person, though. But equally, it doesn't surprise him either; throughout his life, it's always been people that he connects with. It's never been concepts, thoughts or ideals. Humanity is what keeps him in check.

Sometimes, he worries that the game he's playing – with Red John, with her – is pushing her away from him. He knows that she lives in a state of perpetual confusion when it comes to him. Some days he's giving her one signal and the next day, it's another and so on. And besides, they are both aware of the threat of Red John lingering in the shadows. If he dares risk it, who knows what would happen?

They could both lose everything. He could drag her down with him and if he does - he'd never forgive himself for that.

In the end, she is the one to make the first move. It's after a particularly harrowing case; ones involving child murder always are. Just because they got the positive outcome in the end, it doesn't make it any easier to deal with the fallout. They are a little drunk and in the bar. One misplaced hand is all it takes for her to place an impromptu kiss on his cheek. Instinct kicks in and he reciprocates with one on her lips. The alcohol makes him feel reckless and he's almost surprised when she doesn't push him away.

One thing leads to another and soon enough, they find themselves in bed, together. It's a shabby motel room; certainly not the kind of place he imagined spending their first night. After it's done, he cannot help but wonder if she will not be there in the morning.

A boundary once crossed cannot be uncrossed.

And Lisbon is as professional as it comes. She cannot stand for muddying the borderline or breaking the rules. It's just not the done thing.

When the morning sun rises, illuminating her pale skin and accentuating her features, he cannot help but smile.

She's still here.

v.

"I can't do this. Not anymore."

He understands, of course he does. Red John has killed her brother, Tommy, and left Annabeth brutally traumatized as a consequence. It doesn't take much to read between the lines to be able to tell that this is just a warning. The smiley face on the wall above Thomas Lisbon's head might as well read 'you're next' instead.

All he can do is nod and apologize over and over again. There's nothing he can do; he can't stop her from leaving.

But when he watches her walk away, it breaks his heart more than he cares to admit.

vi.

He misses her with every second that passes. It's more unbearable than he's ever imagined. Now, Jane's convinced that he's destined to live his life alone. Teresa had been his second chance, he knows that, and yet fear has sent her running away. He doesn't blame her; he'd always known there had been a risk of that happening. Especially with Red John still out there, determined to make his life a misery because of one fatal error so many years ago now.

Jane is sick to death with Red John. He wants to live again, wants to feel, wants to be free to love who he pleases, but he can't. Even if he tries to shake himself free, Red John continually anchors him to his past.

As much as he can, he keeps an eye out for Lisbon. It's difficult because she's still such a naturally secretive soul, but of course, there are things that leak out of the woodwork.

He's as surprised as anyone when she defaults to the FBI. Jane isn't surprised that they hired her; she's an excellent agent and has a proven track record. And if anyone can deal with Patrick Jane and still keep hold of their conscience, dignity and sense of justice, then they must be able to face anything.

Jane keeps up fighting against Red John, because, as far as he's concerned, he's lost another thing to Red John now.

Only Lisbon isn't completely unassailable to him, not like Angela and Charlotte. He can – he will – he must – get her back. It's obvious just how sane she keeps him; as much as Rigsby, Van Pelt and Cho try to help, it's just not the same. It just isn't the same without her.

In the end, it's Lisbon who takes down Red John, from within the confines of the FBI, no less. Jane had never trusted them and now he knows precisely why. The whole institution had been riddled with deceit, lies and corruption. He's inordinately proud of her, but she remains as aloof.

But then, he never expected her to run straight into his arms afterwards, anyway.

It takes a short while for them to begin talking again. A little while longer for them to regain that mental intimacy they'd once shared.

Eventually, she's back in his arms, where she belonged in the first place.

But every night, the old paranoia haunts him. What if she finds another reason to leave again? What if he pushes away accidentally? What if they just couldn't work anyway, regardless of the presence of Red John?

What if they were truly not meant to be?

Every morning, he feels the same relief wash over him because she's still there.

He knows that she still has some secrets buried away deep inside of her. She's translucent, not transparent. There's a slight difference between the two. But that's what keeps them healthy.

And she knows that she'd never dare leave him, not again. He can't see that, not at face value. Or maybe, he just can't read it because he's so scared that the answer may not be the one he wants it to be.

But she knows.


End file.
